


Croissant paths again

by crayyyonn



Series: Caramel me maybe? [4]
Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-27 06:10:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9979829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crayyyonn/pseuds/crayyyonn
Summary: In which Jackson chooses his battles and Jaebum branches out.





	

If anyone asks, Jackson’s favorite time of day is definitely the weekday morning rush.

Not that anyone ever does, he thinks, disgruntled. He’s so underappreciated around here.

But he digresses. He loves the 9am rush, not just because of what it does for their bottom line (and regardless of what Mark seems to think he _does_ care about how the café is doing financially, okay) but also because that’s when he gets to see all his regulars at their realest before they get their caffeine fix. It’s like magic, the way the first sip brings the spark back into their eyes and the pep in their stride.

“Spoken like a true enabler,” Bambam observes from where he’s carefully arranging freshly baked pastries in the display case. “You know caffeine is a drug right?”

“Hey, the people have a need, and I, the calling to fulfill that need.”

He grins when the younger just scoffs. Even with his back facing him, he can practically see him rolling his eyes.

“Speaking of needs, I’m pretty sure no one needs these, so I’m just gonna—”

“Don’t you dare!” Jackson all but screeches, lunging forward to save the tray of beautifully done, perfectly baked muffins. “Not my _pièces de résistance_.”

He’s met with a blank stare, followed by a raised eyebrow.

“Alright, so they’re not golden brown.” “Charred.” “And they’ve spilled a little out of their cups.” “You mean grossly missha—”

“POINT IS,” Jackson cuts in loudly, acutely aware of the giggling coming from the other side of the café where Mark and Jinyoung are pretending to wipe the tables while they sneak glances at each other. Oh, he’s noticed alright. One would have to be blind to not notice they way they get all twitterpated around each other. “They’re _my_ muffins and this is _my_ counter so they’re staying. Right. Here.”

“My counter, Jacks, I pay the rent after all,” Mark calls out, calm as ever. It makes Jinyoung laugh harder, one hand covering his mouth, like it's the funniest thing anyone's ever said in all history and, see what he means? 

It's not even close to spring. 

“Who fronted the money for the store, Mark, huh? Whose apartment did we mortgage to get the loan?”

“Ours,” comes the reply, and Jackson’s eyes narrow. He doesn’t have a good comeback for that, but it turns out he didn’t need one because it’s then that the first rush of customers stream in.

They’re kept busy for the next ten minutes, working like a well-oiled machine with Jackson at the till, Bambam warming up and bagging pastries, and Mark and Jinyoung manning the coffee machines. Seeing his regulars coming in bleary eyed and walking back out jauntily, coffee in hand, is better than the endorphin rush that hits when he wins a fencing match. He’s so caught up in the minutiae of order taking that he doesn’t notice Jaebum stepping into the cafe until he’s right in front of the counter.

“Jaebum, hi!”

His shoulders are slumped, eyes barely open. He looks exhausted, and Jackson wants nothing more than to sit him on a couch, swaddle him in blankets, and give him a cup of strong, soothing tea. He looks like the type who would enjoy tea. Jackson really wants to know what was it that kept him up the night before.

He also really wants to reach out and straighten that crooked tie. 

“You’re early today.” he greets instead, chipper as anything.

It gets him the barest of nods, and then Jaebum is croaking, “Just a coffee, please.” He hands over the money, fingers grazing Jackson’s palm. They’re warm, despite how nippy it is outside. It sends a nice tingle down his spine.

“Uh, yeah. Just a minute,” he says as he rifles for change and sleeves a paper cup. It’s the tail end of the rush and there are just two more customers in queue, but Jinyoung is already at his side, pulling on the levers for Jaebum’s order of black tar. Half a minute, then.

Holding out handful of coins, he asks, “Have you had breakfast?”

“Huh?” Jaebum looks confused. His eyes slit even narrower, and a tiny wrinkle forms in the middle of his forehead. He looks adorable when he’s confused. 

“Breakfast? The thing we eat so we don’t keel over in a dead faint from hunger?” Like you are about to, he adds silently.

“Uh…”

“Tell you what,” Jackson eyes his tray of muffins with their blackened tops. Then he sighs, reaching for a croissant. He slides it into a paper bag, grabs the coffee from Jinyoung, and hands both to Jaebum. “Breakfast of champions! On the house.”

Blinking owlishly, Jaebum mutters, “Thanks.” Then he smiles, and the sight of it sends Jackson’s heart beating in triple time.

And if he’s still clutching at his chest long after Jaebum leaves, he’s got a heart condition, okay. Just ask his mother.

 

-

 

With a groan, Jaebum sinks into his chair and powers his computer on. He sips on his coffee slowly as he waits for it to boot, feeling himself getting more alert by the minute. Youngjae arrives just a few minutes after, announcing his presence by dumping his messenger bag onto his desk and dropping heavily into his chair.

“After yesterday we really ought to get a half day off, hyung,” he complains tiredly.

Jaebum shrugs. “We’ve got a pile of new cases that need working, Youngjae.” Sliding the paper bag towards him, he takes a bite of the croissant, grimacing when the savory, pungent taste of cheese hits his palate. He would have preferred a fluffy muffin, but hey, it was free. He continues to chew mechanically.

“Is that… is that a ham and cheese croissant?” Youngjae asks skeptically.

“Yeah.”

“Wow, hyung, is this like the coming of age of your sweet tooth?”

“Shut up, Youngjae.” Picking up a folder from the stack in his inbox, he tosses it so it lands right in front of him.

“Aw another custody case? Really?”

“What can I say, Youngjae, Mrs Jung _really_ likes you.”

He grins at Youngjae’s dismal groan, making quick work of his croissant and picking the next folder. Property dispute. Great.

 _Breakfast of champions_ , was what the annoying, but cute barista said. He’d better be right.

**Author's Note:**

> yeah i haven't forgotten about this 'verse though rn it's kinda going nowhere + yugyeom's still nowhere to be seen + i'm running out of puns 
> 
> but enjoy i guess
> 
> /needs to stop writing jackbum


End file.
